No peace in sight.
Every night I wage a war. The enemy crawls into the room and begins its familiar bombardment, first with feathers and then with rubber bullets. In a matter of minutes I’m surrounded by fire breathing dragons screaming with urgency – I must enter their realm. I refuse, at least for a few more hours. It’s about the fight, yet I don’t even know where my objection starts in me. This battle makes no sense and doesn’t do me any good. But somehow, Sleep has become my enemy.
Its army comes at me as if I’m expecting it. Like I’ll throw myself at their mercy once the grenades are thrown. I shake my head and pop my lids open again, a yawn stretches me but I stay connected to the wakeful world … with my eyes.
Two days ago I went to the eye doctor and he tells me I have…
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